


More Than a Mask

by Skeren



Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, War Arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 03:04:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3472091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skeren/pseuds/Skeren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Obito has some thoughts as he sets aside his orange mask.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Than a Mask

Up until the summit, things had been traveling on a certain path. He'd had plans, carefully laid, carefully detailed, plans. They hadn't actually involved resurrecting Madara and all his terrible ideas. They hadn't involved rushing things ahead in a way that left him a step behind and caught in the backlash. At the summit, he'd made mistakes. They'd been fixable. They'd been workable.

Then that oh so 'helpful' boy had breezed in and forced his way into the situation, dragging Madara along in his wake like a bad smell. 

Of course nothing would go quite as he wanted once that happened. 

Madara tended to have that effect on just about everything, and while he could have screamed, could have thrown everything to the ground and smashed it to bits, he instead decided to persevere. If he failed, he'd have to find another way, it's what he did. 

If he didn't fail, there was a good chance the situation might deal with Madara for him and he could advance as he'd hoped to get around the ridiculousness of using genjutsu instead of real worlds. Genjutsu was futile and never solved anything. He'd learned that when he was eight, and that was hardly different now that he was in his thirties. No, better to use the power and make something permanent instead of an impermanence that would leave a hideous amount of dead bodies littering the landscape. 

Better, after all, to have an empty world rather than a dead one. 

Still, for now, he had to set his own ideals and hopes aside. He'd already fetched a replacement eye, in hopes to be able to do _something_ with this situation, and now it was time to address his face.

It was time to put the carefree one aside. He wouldn't get to play any more, so better not to tempt himself with something he'd come to associate so strongly with playful moments. The orange mask was put away then, and he suspected that no one would ever pick it up again. Not even him.

Then again, he was declaring war on the world in an effort to return things he'd taken, and give things he'd never had. 

Maybe, for once, he might not need to wear any kind of mask, and people would be allowed to see his eyes clearly.

He doubted it though, and his plans...

He had to go through Madara's version to get to his plans, of course, and that was the trouble.

Thus... this. It wasn't even a mask. It was a white, cold eye, hiding even more of him and taking him from someone hidden, to truly no one.

This wasn't the mask of Tobi, his playful alias. This was the face of Madara, blank and focused and come to ruin everything.

He ran his fingers over the hard material, then finally reached up to put it on. He already had his attire in place, his armor and cloak replaced with open traditional garments and the oversized fan. 

He was leaving behind part of himself to go to this battle, and he would never let anyone tell him otherwise.

But at least, this once, he was leaving it behind willingly.

Even if, perhaps, the protection of that innocence was entirely an illusion.

Then again... everything in this fight was an illusion.

So that was, of course, entirely appropriate.


End file.
